Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

CHAPTER 31: Questions, Answers and Unexpected Profanity

At first, the light was so bright, Harry was afraid he had died and gone to heaven. Then, his vision cleared and he realized it was just the infirmary. "Good morning, Mr. Potter!" exclaimed Madame Pomfrey, the painfully cheerful school nurse. The last time he'd seen the woman, she'd harangued him for being so foolish as to blow out his eardrums by casting a sonic curse at his own head, but she seemed much friendlier today. Perhaps it was because this time his wounds weren't self-inflicted.

Harry slowly sat up and noticed his glasses and his wand on the bedside table. Donning the former, he saw that there were a surprising number of gifts and get-well cards on the table both from various Slytherins and his friends from other houses. Then, he saw that Jim was in the next bed over, still asleep (or possibly comatose – Harry had no way of knowing) and with an equally large assortment of gifts from his own fan club. Harry reached over for a Cauldron Cake and said, "Good morning to you as well, Madame Pomfrey. I don't suppose you can tell me how I got here. Last thing I recall, I was being choked to death by the animated corpse of my Defense instructor."

The nurse stared at him. "That's a rather ... lurid description, Mr. Potter. You and your brother were brought in early Friday morning, along with several of your friends." He looked concerned at that, but she was quick to reassure him. "Everyone else only suffered from some minor cuts and bruises and was right as rain and sent back to their dorms within the hour. You and your twin, however, were comatose for several days. Some strange form of magical shock. Your vital signs were fine, and you both came out of your comas last night, but as bed rest was still prescribed, you were both left to sleep until you woke up on your own. Incidentally, today is Monday, June 8th. Now, any other questions you have should best be answered by the Headmaster or your parents, all of whom I have summoned."

Harry frowned at that but figured it would be unavoidable. He briefly considered whether he should insist that Snape be present as well, as was his right under the injunction his solicitor had filed. Then, he remembered what Voldemort had revealed. That Snape had been a Death Eater. That Snape was the one who told Voldemort about the Prophecy. That Snape, as much as Dumbledore, the Potters, or the Dark Lord, had inflicted 4 Privet Drive on him.

"One last question, please? Do you happen to know the outcome of the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match that was scheduled for last Friday?" he asked.

She shook her head sadly as she looked over at Jim. "The Gryffindors had to move a Chaser to cover Jim's spot and played a man down the whole game. It was the worst defeat for the Gryffindors in 300 years, they say."

Harry smiled. "I'm sorry I missed it," he said softly as Madame Pomfrey returned to her office.

"I'll bet you are," Jim sighed from the next bed, as he struggled to sit up.

"Oh, cheer up, Little Brother. There's always next year. Maybe I'll make the Slytherin team, and we'll have a whole new arena in which to hate each other." As he spoke, he reached over for a small box with a card that read "You'll probably be needing this. B.Z." Inside, he found a small mirror and a fresh tube of Sleekeazy. Delighted, he immediately started primping his rat's nest of a head into something more presentable.

Jim didn't rise to Harry's taunts. Instead, he stayed quiet for a while before finally asking, "Was there ever a moment when you were actually considering joining ... You-Know-Who?"

"What, Voldemort?" said Harry, enjoying the sight of Jim flinching at the name as he carefully adjusted some stray hairs. "Heh. Some Boy-Who-Lived you are. You can't even say your arch-enemy's name. And no, I would never join Voldemort. If anything, I want to destroy him more than you do. He's one of five people responsible for ensuring that I spent ten years of absolute misery with the Dursleys, and of those five, he's the only one I'd be legally allowed to kill."

Jim was startled by how casually Harry talked about killing Voldemort. He knew he was expected to "vanquish" the Dark Lord, but somehow he'd never internalized that word as a synonym for "kill." For some reason, he recalled his very first conversation with Harry, in which he'd bragged about how his brother could handle running House Potter's business affairs while the Boy-Who-Lived focused on "fighting bad guys." Now that he knew exactly what "fighting bad guys entailed," he shivered at how naive and arrogant he'd been. He turned back to his brother and narrowed his eyes. "Who are the other four?" asked he suspiciously.

Harry snickered but didn't answer. "Not to change the subject, but ... well, I'm changing the subject. What was up with your strategy of repeatedly kicking Quirrell in such a wonderfully Muggle way? You said you'd had years of special training to prepare you for something like that. I assumed it had been magical training. Are you a wizard or not?"

Jim looked away. The fact that he'd been rendered so helpless so easily, that he'd been reduced to nothing more than bait to ensure Harry's presence, and that Harry had been so much more ... competent at confronting Voldemort all rankled at him terribly. "I'm a wizard who wasn't allowed to legally own a wand before the age of eleven, snake. My ... our mother insisted that I learn self-defense. I'd only been taking martial arts classes for a year or so though and ... kind of got out of practice since I got to Hogwarts." He looked back to his brother. "That won't happen again," he said with determination.

Before Harry could reply, the doors to the infirmary opened, and the Headmaster entered, along with the Potters and Snape. Jim wasn't sure but he thought he'd heard Harry mutter "Speak of the devils."

"Good morning, Jim. Good morning, Harry. How are you both feeling this morning?" Dumbledore seemed chipper, but Harry assumed it was an act. A year's worth of work and nothing to show for it except the Boy-Who-Lived nearly getting choked to death couldn't have the old man feeling very happy. Then again, depending on what happened to Voldemort's spirit after the two passed out, he supposed it was possible that the old man felt happy indeed. For their part, the Potters quickly rushed to Jim and embraced him, but they at least had the decency (or perhaps the gall) to look apologetic about the fact that they weren't embracing him as well.

"Stupid and useless is how I feel," said Jim dejectedly. "I'm sorry. I should never have gone down to the Chamber, let alone dragged my friends down there. I don't know what I was thinking."

"I believe your brother can answer that," said Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling. Harry assumed there was something unnatural about that, so he tried to avoid direct eye contact as much as possible. "After all, it was he who answered Professor Quirrell's summons to the Mirror Chamber after you and your friends had been captured, but not before he passed on a transcription of their conversation to a prefect who then delivered it to the faculty."

Harry looked over at his brother with a bland expression and sighed. "He used a Confundus Curse on all four of you. The Defense exam you took the other day carried a spell that would compel you all to try to protect the Philosopher's Stone once you learned the Headmaster had left school grounds."

Jim was confused. "But why? Why didn't he just try to take the Stone himself?"

"He couldn't," Harry replied. "The Stone was placed in the Mirror in such a way that only someone who had the desire to protect the Stone from Voldemort could actually remove it. Not that it was ever the real Philosopher's Stone to begin with. That whole story was a sham concocted as a lure for Quirrell and his master. I assume the Mirror also had some particularly useful benefit when used against a possessing spirit like Voldemort's." The Potters flinched reflexively at the name, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. "After all, that would have been a very roundabout way of dealing with the situation if it had just been Quirrell you were worried about."

"Quite so, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I do hope you don't mind if I call you Harry, given how many other people named Potter are in the room." Harry shrugged while suppressing the urge to ask if he could call the Headmaster Albus. "While the Mirror can bewitch mortal minds, its original purpose was to safely free victims of possession from their inhabiting spirits. Initially, it was quite effective, much more so than traditional methods of exorcism. Such ghosts and other malicious spirits would naturally be drawn into the Mirror and trapped in an hallucinatory dreamscape in which all their hopes and dreams were fulfilled, leaving their hosts alive and unharmed. Eventually, after all of its worldly desires had been satiated, the spirit would dissipate."

"Unfortunately, over the years, the sheer number of evil spirits and angry ghosts absorbed by the Mirror twisted it and gave it a hunger for the souls of the living as well. It gained a limited self-awareness, as well as the power to entrance the living as well as the dead with images of their deepest, most primal wants. An unwary observer might stand in front of the Mirror enraptured until his body wasted away and his still living soul slipped loose from his body to be consumed. Once the artifact's darker properties were identified, it was removed from use and retired to the Department of Mysteries for study, and I had to pull a great many strings to secure it as a trap for Voldemort. Our plan was that Quirrell would attempt to secure the Stone from the Mirror only for Voldemort's soul fragment to be trapped and consumed by it instead." The Headmaster grimaced. "Obviously, that plan was unsuccessful."

"What went wrong?" asked Jim.

"Me," said Harry flatly without looking at any of the others. "I figured out the truth back in November, both about the Stone and about Voldemort. Professor Snape here advised me that Voldemort might be able to learn what I knew through Legilimency and that I should avoid looking at Quirrell. Apparently, I wasn't subtle enough about it. He didn't learn what I knew, but he did realize that I knew something, and so he started using Legilimency on my Gryffindor friends and eventually on Jim. That let him know that the Mirror was the real trap and that I'd beaten it. Quirrell and Voldemort lured you and the others through the gauntlet in order to get me to come after you all. After he saw your memory of last Christmas, there was no way that Voldemort would expose himself directly to the Mirror."

Jim absorbed all that. Not only had his Slytherin brother come to save everyone, they had only been put in danger in the first place due to Harry figuring out everything months ago while he was stumbling around in the dark. Well, that and his childish actions at Christmas. He'd followed Harry and Theo to the Mirror Room hoping to get them in trouble. Instead, he'd unwittingly learned the very information Voldemort needed to evade Dumbledore's trap. He shook his head, unwilling to follow that line of thought any farther.

"By the way," interrupted Jim. "Snape's a Death Eater. You know, just in case anyone's interested."

The Potters looked at each other pensively, while Snape snorted contemptuously towards Jim. Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "When Professor Snape was a young man, he made some unfortunate mistakes, mistakes he has worked diligently to correct. All I can tell you beyond that is that Professor Snape has my complete confidence. I trust that will be sufficient for you both."

Jim nodded slowly. Harry merely looked at Dumbledore before changing the subject. "Speaking of trust, I don't suppose that you'd be inclined to tell us the whole prophecy now that we know it exists."

"Alas, I cannot. While Voldemort knows how the Prophecy begins, he does not know its entirety, and there is information contained within the whole Prophecy which could still be of great value to him. I had held out hope that you, Jim, could be kept unaware of the Prophecy completely for a while longer. There are ... burdens that will come with compete knowledge of it, burdens that I had wanted to spare you. I had hoped to see that you could enjoy at least a little more of your childhood..." He stopped as he sensed Harry stiffen and realized his faux pas. From what Severus had said, the elder twin's "childhood" ended sometime around the age of four. He took a deep breath and then persevered.

"In any case, Jim, I understand that your brother, Harry, has undertaken a study of Occlumency. If your parents approve, I would recommend that you do likewise. I will reveal the rest of the Prophecy when and only when I am satisfied that you can defend your mind against intrusions from Voldemort and others." He turned to the other brother. "The same applies to you, Harry. I believe your actions have earned you the right to know the contents of the Prophecy, which I will make available to you once you have completed your own Occlumency training."

That surprised Harry, as well as James Potter. Neither parent looked happy at the idea of Jim studying Occlumency, and James looked like he was about to openly object to either boy learning any more about the prophecy. He gave up when Lily elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Harry pretended not to notice. "Can you at least tell us what happened to Voldemort ... you know, after I passed out. I remember the sound of Quirrell – well, Voldemort by that point, I guess – screaming and a burning smell, and then, nothing."

"I killed him, didn't I?" interrupted Jim suddenly. "The ... anomaly ... thing ... anyway, whatever it was that let me destroy Voldemort's body back when I was a baby kicked in again and destroyed him. And Quirrell." He looked down at that. Harry was reminded that only a few weeks earlier, he had been relieved to have not started a body count at the age of eleven. But while he had some sympathy for his brother's plight, he also knew that he would not have hesitated to destroy Voldemort and/or Quirrell if he'd had the actual power to do so. He may have shown mercy to Draco Malfoy, but he'd spent way too much time talking with Niddhogg to be either squeamish or sentimental where the Dark Lord was concerned.

"No, son, you didn't," said James reassuringly to his favored son. "Quirrell was already dead by his master's hand. And even if things had played out differently, Quirrell would have died as soon as You-Know-Who's spirit abandoned his body. It appears that the possession was a voluntary one. Quirrell's will may have been overcome before it started, but by the time he got to Hogwarts, he was a willing host. And a willing host always dies when the possessing spirit departs. You're not responsible for Quirrell's death."

"Unfortunately," said Harry somewhat acerbically, "you're not responsible for Voldemort's death either." He turned to look at Dumbledore. "I'm right, aren't I? He is still out there, if only in a spiritual form. How long will it take him to find another way to restore himself?"

Dumbledore sighed tiredly. "We don't know, Harry. We are not even sure how he maintains his existence. There are several methods that allow the soul to remain tied to the material world even after death of the body, all of which utilize the darkest of magics, but we are not yet certain which method he used, always assuming he didn't invent some entirely new and monstrous technique completely unknown to us. I believe that it will take him some time to recover from the events of last Thursday night, but I cannot say how long it will be nor can I predict by what means he will next seek to achieve physicality. We can only remain vigilant and do what we can to prepare."

"For my own part," he continued somewhat sadly, "I can only offer you both my apologies. Our plan took great risks but offered great rewards – the total destruction of Lord Voldemort at a time when he was still at his weakest. That the plan should have failed through a series of unfortunate and unforeseeable coincidences is ... profoundly disappointing. I hope you can both forgive me for my own lack of foresight." Jim said that, of course, he would, while Harry nodded noncommittally.

"Now, my understanding is that Madam Pomfrey wishes to give each of you a final check-up, after which you will be released. Lunch is in one hour, and the Leaving Feast will be this evening." He chuckled softly. "Who knows? There might be some special last minute points to be granted." His eyes twinkled at that, and Harry resolved to study over the summer and find out whether "twinkling eyes" was a sign of some malicious but subtle psychic attack.

"If it's all the same, sir," said Harry, reclining with his eyes closed as if he had grown weary. "I'd prefer that Theo, Blaise and I not receive any points as a result of what happened, especially if the Boy-Who-Lived and three other Gryffindors get points out of the same event. It would cause a lot of Slytherins to ask ... difficult questions and possibly complicate our position within the House. There are too many Slytherins still who were raised to have Death Eater sympathies ... as I'm sure Jim and Lord Potter would happily agree." If there was the tiniest amount of snideness in that last bit, neither Dumbledore nor Snape commented on it and none of the others even noticed it. "Also, I've rather firmly staked out the position in the House that Voldemort is dead with a capital-D and that Slytherin House should move on from his influence, and it would be better for us if there were no rumors floating around to the contrary. Certainly no rumors that we three helped prevent his resurrection."

Dumbledore glanced over at Snape, who nodded slightly. "Very well, Harry. No points will be awarded to the involved Slytherin students."

"If the Slytherins aren't getting any points, then ... I don't think the Gryffindors should either," said Jim suddenly. "It's ... not right for us to get points for getting Confunded into a trap if the people who came to rescue us aren't rewarded for it."

"As you wish, Jim," said Dumbledore with a soft smile. "Well, if that is all, I must be going. Much to do before the Leaving Feast. Although I would appreciate it, James, if you would join me in my office to discuss a few small matters." The auror nodded.

After the adults had left, the two boys sat in silence, each looking over the cards and gifts they'd received from well-wishers. Jim looked thoughtful for a few minutes. Then, he suddenly stiffened as a cold feeling entered the pit of his stomach. He sat up and looked over at Harry.

"Why did you refuse House points?" he asked in a clipped tone.

Harry looked over at in surprise. "I already explained that."

"I know you did. And it made sense. That's that doesn't mean it's the real reason."

Harry barked out a surprised laugh. "You're improving, Little Brother. One day, you might even see through one of my plots as its unfolding instead of afterwards. Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup. With the addition of those points – and assuming nothing else changed over the weekend while we were unconscious – Slytherin now leads Gryffindor in the House Cup race by at least thirty points. There were three Slytherins and four Gryffindors involved in last Thursday's monkey business, so if the Headmaster gave all seven of us the same number of points and the per-person award was more than thirty (which seems reasonable for fighting Voldemort himself), Dumbledore's 'last minute award' might have put Gryffindor in the lead."

"And you just assumed that if you declined to accept House points, I would automatically do the same."

"Of course. You're a Gryffindor."

Jim slammed his head back into his pillow, fuming. "I hate Slytherins so much."

"So I've heard," said Harry smugly as he opened up another Cauldron Cake.

Soon after, James and Dumbledore were seated in the Headmaster's office. James noticed that his old mentor's eyes were decidedly not twinkling.

"What would you like to talk about, Albus?" he asked somewhat tightly.

"James, this has to stop. Thus far, I have respected your legal authority over Harry as his Head of House even after learning how flagrantly you have abused that authority over the past ten years. Moreover, the laws of the Wizengamot have thus far compelled me to do so, despite my increasing apprehension at the rift between Harry and the rest of your family. In any case, Harry's decision to have me recuse myself from any legal proceedings involving him has largely made the matter moot. That said, he is my student, one for whom I have failed to fulfill my obligations as Headmaster. I can no longer condone what Severus rightly describes as 'senseless antagonism' towards the boy."

James bristled. "I'm afraid I must reject that characterization, sir."

"Which part? You don't recognize it as antagonism? Or you actually claim that there's some sense to it?"

"With respect, Albus, you know that as Head of House Potter, my authority over Harry's upbringing trumps your authority as Headmaster. And so long as I fulfill my obligations to my Heir Presumptive, neither you nor anyone else has any business questioning any of my parental decisions."

The room got noticeably colder at that, and Potter had to struggle to maintain eye contact with Dumbledore, who was now giving him The Look. Not the "I'm disappointed" look he'd used on the Marauders when they'd exceeded his patience for pranks. But rather, The Look. The one that let everyone know the dotty old man had left the building and the Defeater of Grindenwald had taken his place. The one James had only ever seen him use when confronting Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. Potter was stunned to realize that Dumbledore might actually now consider him to be an enemy due to his treatment of Harry.

"I am well aware of my stringent limitations as Headmaster where Wizengamot Lords and their heirs are concerned, Lord Potter. They are the same limitations that your peer, Lord Tiberius Nott, uses to sanctify his conduct as well." James was shocked to be compared to the notorious Death Eater. It felt like a slap to the face. "However, it occurs to me that those limitations do not apply when I am acting in my capacity as Chief Warlock. Thus far, I have acquiesced to Harry's motion to recuse because, frankly, I agreed that there is a conflict of interest. After all, it was my mistake which led to his erroneously being declared a squib, and it was my recommendation that you integrate him as quickly as possible into Muggle society that led to his placement with the Dursleys ... although I certainly never anticipated that you would ignore the boy completely for ten years without making the slightest inquiries into his health."

"We did place protections," said James testily. "I bought a house across the street for Arabella Figg to live in so she could watch over the boy and let us know if anything was wrong."

Dumbledore gave him The Look again. "Well, James, that worked out splendidly, didn't it? Regardless, recusal is generally at the Chief Warlock's discretion. If I reverse my prior decision on that topic, Harry's solicitor would need to bring the matter before the entire Wizengamot in order to force me to recuse myself ... though she may be elect not to do so once it becomes clear that I am inclined to rule in the boy's favor."

Potter's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

"I assure you, Lord Potter," said Dumbledore coldly, "that I have seen more than enough in the past year to support a finding that you have been an unfit guardian to the Heir Presumptive of your House. As such, it is within my legal power as Chief Warlock to revoke your authority over Harry completely and appoint a custodial guardian until he comes of age. I imagine Augusta Longbottom would be delighted to accept Harry into her household." Then, he smiled, though there was still no twinkle in his eyes. "In fact, Harry seems remarkably mature for his age, don't you agree? I can easily see myself amenable to a petition for emancipation for Harry as early as, say, thirteen? Emancipation followed swiftly by elevation from Heir Presumptive to Heir Apparent?"

"NO! YOU CAN'T!" James shot up out of his chair as he shouted at the old men, who sat unmoved.

"Then give me a reason not to. Give me some sign that you can finally be a decent father to your son."

James looked around for a moment as if lost. Then, he sat back down again slowly as the energy drained out of him. "I ... I can't. It's too late. My last chance to be Harry's father ended the night he was Sorted."

"But ... why?! I admit I was concerned at first when Harry was Sorted into Slytherin House, but the past year has erased nearly all of my reservations. He hasn't been dragged into the dark by the other Slytherins as I feared. If anything, he is pulling them back into the light. He knowingly and willingly went to face Voldemort without any of the expectations of Jim's magical protections in order to save his Gryffindor friends, and the sons of Tiberius Nott and Serena Zabini willingly accompanied him!" Dumbledore sighed. "James, I am committed to spending the last years of my life helping Jim defeat Voldemort, a daunting, seemingly impossible task. But those difficulties are nothing compared to the task of breaking the hold that centuries of Pureblood ideology and reckless bigotry have held over Slytherin House, over one quarter of our student body. I never dared dream that I would live to see a Slytherin like Harry who brings together the children of Death Eaters and the children of Muggles. I never dared to hope that such a thing was even possible!"

With that, Dumbledore studied James's face and noticed that he had only become more distraught. "And yet, for some reason, that thought ... horrifies you." He shook his head. "I don't understand, James. As a student, you were kind and friendly, if a little rambunctious, to everyone save those of Salazar's House to whom you showed relentless hatred. Like your father before you. Like his father before him. Why, James? Why is it so unthinkable for a Potter to not only join Slytherin House, but to excel and to bring forth its best qualities rather than its worst."

James closed his eyes and leaned his head back, as if beaten down by his mentor's words. Finally, he spoke in flat, broken voice. "I'll need you to swear an Unbreakable Vow."

"What?" Dumbledore asked, confused at the non sequitur.

"You asked me a question. I'll say this for now. My ... antagonism towards Harry ... is not senseless. It is purposeful. If you want to know what that purpose is, I'll need you to swear an Unbreakable Vow of secrecy to never reveal it."

Dumbledore stared at his former student and now his young friend for a long time. Then, he pulled out his wand slowly and took the oath Potter demanded. Several minutes later, most of the paintings of former Headmasters which adorned Albus Dumbledore's office looked on in shock and surprise. In the forty years that the man had served as Headmaster of Hogwarts, none of them had ever heard the man swear so loudly or profanely.

The next update will post on Monday, 7/20/15 sometime between noon and 2 pm CST. (I've decided to play around with the release times a bit to see if it increases reader response.) "The Death Eater Snape," in which Harry and Neville drop by the Potions Lab for a little chat. Ever wonder what happened after "Snape's Worst Memory" and after James Potter threatened to remove Snape's underpants?

AN: I hope the Dumbledore-James scene lives up to expectations. I was bemused by the fact that the last update featured the climactic confrontation between Harry and Voldemort (during which major canon secrets were revealed years ahead of schedule) ... and most of the reviews seemed more excited by the promise of someone finally calling James out on his crap. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and keep 'em coming.

Also, back in the middle of May (Geez, it's been a long time), Teufel1987 correctly pointed out that I had identified Harry as "Heir Presumptive" when the proper term should have been "Heir Apparent." Rather than go back and change things, I decided to keep it as written and simply say that wizards use the terms differently. Ergo, you become the Heir Presumptive if you are the eldest wizarding child of a Wizengamot seat holder. (For some families, you must also be of the correct gender, but this is an archaic requirement that is dying out.) Harry, as the eldest twin, met that requirement when he demonstrated accidental magic and later got his Hogwarts letter. When the Heir Presumptive reaches the right age (15 or earlier if emancipated) and demonstrates magical competency through passing the requisite number of OWLS, he becomes the Heir Apparent (if his Wizengamot parent is still alive) or the Lord Conditional (if the parent is dead or incapacitated, as was the case with Frank Longbottom).